


The Kingdom

by grassyplain



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassyplain/pseuds/grassyplain
Summary: This is like a newer updated version of anger.





	1. Chapter 1

I was a weapon. A beautiful weapon that, sharpened perfectly by the right person, was deadly. 

I ran away from the army because of the blood on my hands. The blood that I wish I never spilled, the red ruby droplets that I had never torn out of that squadron. The wrong squadron. I ran away from the war, into the deep forests, to escape the bloodshed of my friends. Not because I was afraid for myself, but because I was afraid of what I would do to others. Because I didn't like them having such a short leash on me. There was a small part of me absolutely disgusted with the thought of turning away from such a wasted opportunity. I've always wanted to feel the warm pulse beneath my fingers as I take a person's life and make it my own. When I rip the soul away from their body and release it into the great heavens above. But, I didn't want someone to tell me to do it. I wanted to do it all for my own. 

And now... now, I was chained, the heavy metal weighing down on my arms, arms that should've been strong from enduring long hours at the gym and in training. But I was dragging myself along with the guardsmen, head held high despite the heavy weights on my body. "Hey." I said. "I'm just a little girl. Don't you think the excessive use of chains will stunt my growth? I'm short enough as it is already."

"Shut up." said a guard, pointing his long toothpick at me.

"Pointing your stupid toothpick at people is rude. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" I looked the man up and down. "Actually, given the way you look, it seems like your mother was an ogre as well." I smiled.

The man's face grew red as his mustache trembled. He walked up to me, looking like he was ready to pommel me in the face. The second his fist came close to my face, I catch his hands in my chains, like a fly to a web. Tightening them, I feel the anger in me begin to satisfy as he struggles. 

"Here let me do some chiropracting." I said. Then I completely snap his bone, to which he screams. The other guard, who was looking on amused, was suddenly not so amused anymore. The chains tighten and I stumble, feeling pain lace through my skin as it chafes harder, pressing harder. A thin flame of rage flared through me. I thought of ways I would slowly kill the guard. I wanted them all to die in my hands. I'm shoved into a car now, strapped to the seats as the two guardsmen sit in the front, ready to drive me to whatever destination they wanted. 

I sat in the back, incensed still. If you couldn't tell, I was angry.

"Do you ever feel sad that your life is capturing 16 year old girls?" I said. "Like, whoever employed you hired a whole squad of people to capture me, and y'all only managed to subdue me after you threw a molotov cocktail at me or four? My kill count isn't even greater than one!" 

"We don't make decisions. We just recieve them. Our families would be destroyed if we disobeyed." 

"Hand me your weapons and I'll kill them for you." I said, smiling.

"Then we'd be drafted." they said. "You see, you aren't getting out of this one." 

I sat back, closing my eyes, falling into some sort of sleep.

I woke up the moment the man in front of me unbuckled his seatbelt. I'm a light sleeper. Yawning, I look outside, seeing some giant mansion of some sort, busy servants and guards walking around... just typical rich people houses. 

Who was this person? Either way, I was going to wreak havoc. Pity. This house was quite beautiful, a huge white mansion, that looked like a mix of a fortress and the White House. It was an elegant house. 

I'm taken by two other guards, who are warned that I'm 'fiesty' and have a 'temper'. These two guards weren't much better, looking slightly dumpy and a little fat. If I wasn't so violently chained up, I would enjoy pushing a knife through their stomachs, like stabbing butter. Or stabbing a block of ice cream. A bullet was always to impersonal and overrated anyways, unless in a situation of life or death. I'm dragged through the elegant marble hallways, decorated with guards and fine paintings, the sound of my chains scratching on the floor quieting the other noises of the house. People stop and stare. I can't tell whether it's because I'm Asian and they've never seen a Chinese person. (Probably not). Or whether it's because I'm chained up and looking very bloody and "angry, presumably. Either way, I wanted to hurry up and find the stupid head of this household so I could kill her. I was absolutely infuriated that she took me here. 

"Your majesty, the child has been brought to you." said the guard, now depositing me in the middle of some grand throne room. I look up, seeing a tall blonde woman, beautiful in all her coldness, sitting on top of a throne, toying with an M416. She was dressed in a long white trench coat, long black leather stilletos up to her knees, elegant and graceful, much like the rest of this house. 

"Do you typically kidnap people?" I asked, "Or is that something that's reserved for people like me?"

She smiles, a deadly smile.

"Unchain her." she orders. 

"Your majesty, are you sure that is wise? She's quite dangerous. Her temper cost us 12 of our men." rambles some dude.

"I assure you she can do no harm to me." she said. "If a 16-year old girl who's short enough to be 8 subdues me, then I no longer deserve to be queen." 

"I assure you," I mocked. "I won't do any harm to your queen who cradles a gun as if it's her child and kidnaps teenagers as if she's a pedo."

"Do not speak of the Queen in such a way!" said the man. "She is your superior!"

"In what world? Yours?" I said, my words biting. "Don't worry. I know this woman. She was the one who conscripted me in the first place. Of course she kidnapped me. She didn't want her champion to be a failure."

I feel the chains drop around me. I loosen my shoulders. I had to get out of here. Who knows what this bitch would make me do, this spoiled brat of a princess, one who knew only what she wanted and nothing else. She was selfish, spoiled, and disgusting. Physically she was a masterpiece. On the inside, she was a lying, conniving snake, who loved violence and bloodshed endlessly. I experienced this firsthand, when the first thing she made me do for her, two years ago, was kill her own parents. I was loyal to her, until recently. Until one month ago.

The first thing I did was target her guards. When she fought, when she trained me, she danced. I was a brutal machine, like a butcher. I never had the elegance to dance around my enemies. I hated anyone and everyone who worked for her. I hated her. She was a fucking waste of a life. Grabbing the gun of the first guard, I shoot him in between the eyes, and then, quickly, I shoot the other two guards at the front. I smiled. I was going to enjoy destroying her esteemed personal guard. Grabbing the short knife off of the dead man's body, I quickly launch myself at the four guards, being in such close contact that none of them dared to pull out their gun as I darted in and out, using their bodies as covers, which is something you can do if you're at my height. I recognized the senior officer. Quickly slicing the throats of the three junior officers, I smile as I plunge the blade in his chest, dragging it all the way down. 

I look up at Mitsopolis, who smiled. "I knew you missed the fighting and the violence."

It frustrated me. "I missed nothing!" I said. "The only thing I missed was the quiet of being away from you! I fucking hate you, you know? Fucking using me as your little 'demon'." 

I approached her, her unconcerned as she drops the M416, cracking her knuckles. 

"Do you wish to kill me?"

I wished to do much more than that. I watched as she stepped down, leaning back against a column, feeling the adrenaline pump through me. She comes closer, walking towards me with a horror click...click...click of her stillettos. 

"Get away from me." I said. "I fucking hate you. I'll never work for you again."

A guard rushed in. It was the fat and dumpy one from earlier. "Queen Mitsopolis!" 

I charged him before he could finish the rest of his sentence, doing what I so vividly imagined doing earlier, stabbing him in his soft gut, like a hot blade through butter, plunging it in him again and again and again. 

He's not even alive long enough to scream. 

I looked at the carnage surrounding me, finally looking at Mitsopolis' smug face. She is smirking. 

"Fucking bitch." I muttered, turning towards her. 

"You have the temper of a three-year old." she said. "A murderous three-year old."

I felt my temper flare. Being here had loosened all the nails in the coffin, but seeing her smile unleashed the demon from within. I growled, tackling her to the ground, crossing the room in a matter of seconds. I felt her soft neck underneath my hands, my hard callused hands, squeezing like dough as I saw her eyes bulge out, her eyes, which were a dark grey-blue. 

"You aren't her." I said, letting go of the woman, who gasps. 

"ALAN!" I shouted. "You FUCKING CONNIVING SNAKE! SHOW YOURSELF!" 

I turned around, lifting off the woman's face mask. Ilsa Faust. I was fucked. I didn't think that she was in town. Just seeing her brought me past memories of pain and fear.

I think Faust saw something flash in my eyes. 

"Good morning, Ilsa. You're really taking wanting to be someone to the next level on this fine Summer's day."

She smiled. "You think?" 

Before I knew it, she had flipped me over, using her thighs to squeeze my neck as she applied an ungodly amount of pressure. I felt tears coming to my eyes, when suddenly, she released. "That was for choking me."

I coughed, before getting up, feeling woozy, but not before she smacked me in the face with a gun, then butting me in the stomach. I groaned. 

"You shouldn't have tired yourself out so much killing my men." said a familiar voice. "Still can't pace yourself, I see."

I bit my lip, as a fresh wave of pain trembled through me as Ilsa continued to assualt me, pushing me back, until I tripped over the body of a dead man. Falling backwards on the knife that I had discarded. With a wince as the blade cut into my back, I reach behind me, before leaping up and fighting Ilsa with a new ferverence. 

"I'm going to make you wish you had never taken me back." I swore, spitting out blood. That's when Ilsa, pinning me against the wall, knocked me out completely. Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up with a gasp. Closing my eyes, I prayed that I was still in the forest. Opening them, I knew I wasn't. I was back in my old room, my mentor sitting on the bed, the only person in this household I had really ever cared for. 

"Back from the dead, I see." said Maria, tight bun and uniform impeccable as always. "You really have to work on controlling that nasty temper of yours. Be calm."

Something felt off. "I was never dead." I said, wanting to sit up. I found that I couldn't. "Why can't I move?"

"I'm sorry." she said, getting up, as I saw her slowly deteriorate in front of my eyes, her arms blowing off, as blood streams from the ends of both stumps, a bullet wound in her chest spreading red all over her uniform, impeccable for the first time.

"Don't die!" I screamed. "Stop! STOP! STOP!" 

I tried to move, but I was locked in place by some invisible force. No. No no no.

"I love you, Sam." she said, looking at me sadly as she collapses forwards, and suddenly I'm not in my bed but we're on the roof of a enemy fortress, and chaos is around me, and I'm standing, unable to move.

"No... stop..." I said, before jolting awake, for real, in my own bed. I can almost see the blood left over from my dream. I cried, for the first time, in the softness of my own bed, a familiar comfort that was probably the only thing I missed about this place. To replace Maria, Alanna gave me Ilsa. That's when I ran away, to the depths of the forests. I hated Alanna, and the way she subjugated me. I sit up, feeling sore all over, plopping back down when I see Alanna with a whip in her hands, Ilsa right next to her.

"I'm not in the mood to be tortured. Sorry. If you want to punish me, you'll have to do it from here." I said, snuggling back into my blankets. 

"Sam." said Alanna. "Get up. It's time for you to be taught who the real authority in this household is."

"Yeah. It's you." I said. 

"You've killed 20 of my men. You've disobeyed me. You ran away from service. You tried to kill your mentor." she said. "Do you remember who I am? Or has the forest made you dumb?"

"Don't you have better things to do?"

The blankets are pulled away from me.

"First lesson; be more respectful." Ilsa said, as she pulls me away from the bed, thrashing and fighting, bringing me downstairs to my own personal dungeon. Alanna calls it my classroom. When I first arrived, I had weekly lectures, lectures that beat the soul out of my body from her... until Maria arrived. "Alanna is your Master. You are the dirt beneath her feet."

Ilsa pulls me to the wall, a desk of some sort, if the desk was made of cobble and the student was chained to the desk. 

"Can't you use more conventional teaching methods?" I said.

Crack. The whip cracked and it slithered across my skin. I groaned as the teeth skimmed down my back. 

"I now understand that Maria taught you something I don't believe in; ethics." she said. "From now on, the only ethics you'll have is Alanna's word."

Crack. The whip snaked across my skin to emphasize her point. 

"You're a monster." I said, my back on fire. 

"And you're Alanna's little demon." she said. 

Crack. I cried out in pain, tears streaming down my face, uncontrolled madness.

"I think you forgot the extent of my wrath." Ilsa said. She ripped the shirt off my back. "Remember this? Did you miss it?"

Crack. "Maria made you weak."

Crack. I screamed again.

Crack. I felt myself go dizzy. 

Crack. 

Crack. I just wanted it to stop. Why couldn't it stop?

I could feel Ilsa smiling. I could feel Alanna smiling. This is what she wanted anyways. For me to be tortured into submission.

"Maria turned you into a soft pile of dough. I assure you that I'll turn you into stone."


	3. Chapter 3

Unsuprisingly, the next day, an assignment was handed to me. An assignment that which foretold my conscription back into slavery yet again.

I was in the throne room, limping and completely and utterly sore (Ilsa demanded to have training), feeling like a dead man walking. 

I saw something flash across The Queen's eyes, her electric blue eyes, and she coughed, turning away from me.

"I had the assumption that Queen's don't get sick." I said.

She smiled, one of genuine steel and ice. "Have you eaten this morning?" 

"I had the assumption that if I did, I would probably throw it all up later anyways." I said, smiling. 

"You're skinny enough as it is from your unfortunate lapse of judgement. You need to eat." 

"I wasn't really feeling the extra energy it takes to lift my hands and arms and chew." I said. "What do you want?"

"I have an assignment for you, for today. You are to depart with Lady Ilsa in thirty minutes."

"Wow, it must be an urgent one." I said, taking out my phone. "Who is he? An ex-boyfriend?"

"It doesn't matter who he is." said The Queen. "All that matters to me is that he must be eliminated." 

I looked at her. "If I ever stop being of use, are you going to eliminate me too?" 

"Stop stalling, Sam!" shouted Ilsa, walking in already, tight armor encasing her skin gently, showing off her every curve and angle, weapons probably hidden where her curves should be, but I wasn't saying anything.

"Last thing, Sam." said the Queen.

"Out of sight. Out of mind." I said, saluting her. "I'll be back with his dead carcass."

I stood outside of the helicopter, pulling on my gear, prepping myself for another day at work. Like any other normal teenager, I was wearing a hoodie and some leggings, completely concealing every weapon hidden. I didn't need armor for a mission like this. I preferred not to wear armor, because it kept me on my toes. I was still incredibly sore, but pain was something I could attempt to shelf in a compartment. ilsa approached me with a syringe. 

"New tracking device." she said. 

I felt a spike of fear run through me. I had enjoyed the feeling of being off the grid, without the constant feeling that someone was watching me. It was relaxing, being incognito. I shivered, as she approached me, remembering the first time a tracking device had been put in me, by Maria. Maria had been harsh that day, shouting at me, telling me to suck it up, to get over the fears. I hated syringes. They looked so clean, so simple. They were the ultimate instrument of death; I had learned that firsthand by the death of my older brother, sticking himself with needle after needle for a rush, until one day, he injected too much, and he passed away, quickly, efficently, effortlessly. Ever since then, I've had a paralyzing fear of syringes. A tremor ran down my chest, chilling me. I remembered Maria slapping me, telling me to get out of my head the first time I had to get a tracking device implanted.

I didn't know why I was so paralyzingly afraid of syringes. It was just one of my weird quirks. But it wasn't one of those fears that I could just ignore, like heights, or death. It was something that beat on my brain relentlessly.

"If you're gonna do it, do it quick." I said, closing my eyes and offering my arm. 

"What, is the baby afraid of a shot?" And then she stuck it in me.

"Watch out." I said, when I opened my eyes. "Babies can have horrifying tantrums, too." I walked onto the carrier, buckling myself in, feeling myself being blown away as we lift off to wherever we were going. 

The man was working in a bank right outside of a mall. Obviously, he was one of the executives, and as such, I had finished scouting all the entrances and exits to the bank, and quickly figured out which floor and office he worked in. But, even better, I knew what car he used, and so I lay in wait, in the bushes, waiting for him to come out of the building and into the car. It was 9 p.m. when he did so, strolling up to his car, chest puffed, minding his own business. The parking lot was still full, but as I crept out of the shadows, I remained hidden from sight. When he sat in his car, I crept up behind him and smashed his head on his steering wheel. I had to work quickly. His body still in the front seat, I turned on the car, positioning his body so that he would press the accelerator. I watched as the car tore through the bushes, onto the main road, onto the bridge, and off the bridge. My work here was done. And now, it was time to make my escape. 

I darted towards the mall, watching Ilsa jump down from her post in alarm as I sprinted through the streets into the busy crowds of people. I had a tracking device, but now that my mission was over, I could now finally be obligated to run away, yet again. I charged through the mall, taking way too many turns, stealing a bike after hacking open a lock, pedaling all the way towards some random college dorm. That's when I got off the bike and... Ilsa was already in front of me, on her motorcycle.   
I ran through a dorm, startling many girls, including some fresh out of the shower as I ran from building to building, and eventually onto another busy street, and then, I felt my lungs start to give, and my head start to get dizzy, probably from the lack of food, and I may or may not have collapsed, in the middle of a road, the last thing being remembered is somebody snatching me up and taking me away.


	4. Chapter 4

Like some Groundhog Day nightmare, I woke up, yet again in my bedroom, a huge platter of food next to my bed. I groaned, feeling ravenous suddenly. I attempted to sit up, but I felt pain twitch through every part of my body and I groaned, flopping back onto my bed. I curled up under my sheets, sighing. Looking outside, it seemed that it was night. Grabbing my phone, it was exactly 9:18 pm. This was my third day back, and I finally felt well-rested. That probably had something to do with the fact that I had slept for the past 24 hours. I heard the door to my bedroom open, saw the shadow move. Suddenly alarmed, I imperceptibly grabbed the gun in my bed, carefully looking towards the door. Two things happened then. Two men swung into my bedroom from the window, and three men ran through my door, guns pointed at me. 

"Don't move!" one of them said.

"Woah!" I said, grabbing my pillow. "What is wrong with y'all!" 

"Hands up or we'll shoot!" 

I slowly raised my hands, scanning the room around me. Five men surrounded me. I had to act quick. 

I dived towards the man closest towards me, feeling gunshots go off as I moved. I quickly grabbed a soldier, using them as a shield after stabbing him in the back with a butter knife. Bullets peppered his body as the fellow soldiers shot. There was no better bullet proof shield than the body of another human. Unfortunately, these other soldiers didn't have the liberty of using a dead man as a shield. Throwing my knife into the skull of one man, I grabbed the gun with the momentary distraction that lay on my bed. Ducking beneath my bed, I quickly crawled underneath, completely silent, so much so that the men were confused as to where I had disappeared off to. Grabbing my own throwing knife set under the bed, I quickly rolled out and, hiding behind the food cart, used each man's head as a knife block. They groaned as they went down completely, bullets still peppering the food cart as I quickly ducked for cover underneath my bed. Then, grabbing my own pistol, I shot each man in the head, ensuring that they were completely dead. The Queen. Oh my God. If we were being ambushed, the Queen was in danger. Grabbing my own gun off the wall, as well as my more... silent weapons, I armed myself, before creeping outside. 

Wait... why did I care if she died? If she died, I would be free. But if she didn't die, I would be punished into insanity, and I couldn't even run away from that. Once her full wrath was on me, I was dead meat. Plus, she was the evil one trying to take over most of the world. I would sit this one out. Except that my bedroom was ruined. I would go to her after I grabbed something from the kitchen. I was ravenous. Running silently throughout the halls... Wait... this wasn't even the castle. This was a stronghold. I was in a prison. But then, why was my room the same? What the heck... Ilsa. Slipping through the shadows, I avoided guards and watchmen, slipping to the outside. 

Suddenly, an alarm started blaring. "Special Agents, Sam, female, asian, 5'0, aged 16, has broken out. Aim to capture! We want her alive."

Special Agents? Where was I? A group of men yelled as they pointed my way, all the lights on as I stand in the spotlight. How in the world did I end up here? Running into the Kitchen, I slid behind the pots, slipping through the back door, which brought me to a lit up parking lot. A woman tackled me, and I shot her, blowing her brains out on top of me. Grabbing her own gun, I slipped behind the truck, carefully sighting each man and woman in the watchtowers. I had no transport out. The entire facility was on lockdown. How did I end up here? Ilsa?

I run out into the field, seeing a whole squadron of men follow me, guns pointed. Swallowing, I grabbed my own gun, dropping behind a structure, and firing. 

The concrete was peppered with bullets by return fire, but in mere seconds, I had wiped both my own mag, and 7 men. Some man ambushed me then, pouncing on me as I fell backwards. 

"Yield!" he yelled, choking me. I gasped, unable to breathe as I struggled. If I had any food in my stomach, I probably would've thrown up all over that man. I grabbed the man's own pistol and shot him in the forehead, and I felt him fall limp on me. Dragging him to the cars, I steal his uniform, mostly untouched, thankfully, though extremely baggy. It would give me a small chance.

"Prisoner; armed and dangerous. Has killed 13 men so far. Consider a red threat." ran throughout the prison.

"I've actually killed more." I mumbled, feeling horrible. I stumble, wiping the blood off my face, running towards a series of cars, rolling into the parking lot. I can hear the footsteps of many thunder after me. 

But then, my day got better. I caught sight of a tank. If I could get into that, I could ram through the walls easy. That's what these tanks were made for. I made a blind run for it, taking my chances, since men were coming from every direction, pointing their tasers at me. Fortunately, tasers were close range. Unfortunately, was that all these people ran faster than I, and they were quickly coming up on my tail.

I did something really reckless. I ran into their group, causing mass confusion in their formation as they began tranquilizing each other. I was thankful that I was tiny, and that these people were absolutely massive. I was a much smaller target than they, and I moved fast enough through their ranks that they only shot each other. 

I hopped into the tank a few seconds later, and made the most flamboyant escape in the history of time, jumping out of the tank a few minutes later, as helicopters flew overhead. I ran into the forest, yet again. What was with me and forests?

I fainted the second I stepped foot out of the tank, panicking as helicopters descended upon me.


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up in my own bedroom, for the third time. This time, I ran out of my room, fully armed, running into the corridor. I ran straight into Ilsa, who smiled at me. "Back so soon?"

I growled, whipping out my gun and pointing it towards her head. "Fuck off. I bet you deliberately put me in that place, hoping that I would die."

"And so what if I did? It was per My Queen's instructions to stick you in there for a couple of days. You couldn't even last a day." she said calmly.

"Bitch." I said, pressing the gunpoint in harder, watching in satisfaction as it pressed harder into her skull.

"It was an exercise on loyalty. To make you remember," she said, as she disarmed me coolly, and flipped me towards the floor, "That that's the type of place you will go if you attempt to run away. You're a national fugitive. We're the only ones protecting you. Next time, the security will be ten times stronger, and the nightmare three hundred times worse." She breathed this towards me as she choked me gently. "I'm trying to offer you the reality. You've killed too many to not be punished nationally. I bet the world will cackle as they torture you."

"I..." I started, suddenly at a loss of words. "Seems fun." I say. She gets off of me, and I get up, brushing myself off, but not before I punch her in the face. She catches it easily, and throws me towards the wall, when I groan.

"That's right. You don't understand hand to hand combat. Maria only taught you how to use a weapon. You've gotten pretty far, but what if, for once, your tricks don't work anymore? What if you can't outsmart the enemy?"

I felt my anger flare. "My hands are a weapon. And Maria did teach me how to use my fists." I said, as I grab Ilsa by the hair, yanking her down. She knees me in the face, and flips over me, grabbing my neck with her thighs.

"She did not. That's why she hired me." Ilsa says. 

"Hah. Likely story. Maria would never hire someone as cruel as you."

"Cruel, or realistic?" she said. "So far, The Queen has given you assignments that are relatively simple. You've had the upper hand every time. But what happens if you don't?" 

I scowled. 

"You rely too much on your shiny knives and guns to get you out of trouble. But what happens if you're forced to ambush HQ? A government building? Assassinate a king? A president?"

She touched the back of my neck softly, almost caressing it. "Have you ever learned how to snap a neck? Maria was hired to help you mature, to help you with weapons and with your mindset. She is the mastermind of weapons and mental prowess. I am the master of brute force and trickery."

"You talk about Maria as if she's alive."

"Let me tell you one thing..." said Ilsa, breathing into my ear. "In our world, I'm also the master of orchestrating deaths."

She flips me onto my bed, smiling.


End file.
